


level up

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucina is determined to make things right</p>
            </blockquote>





	level up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Panny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panny/gifts).



Lucina tapped her fingers on her knee, trying to start the blood flowing again, then stopped abruptly.  No fidgeting, she reminded herself.  She looked at her father, an easy, confident smile was on his face as he listened to a story Lissa was telling him animatedly.  Chrom’s hair was starting to develop grey streaks and his age was starting to show even more clearly on his face than on Frederick’s (which is saying something). He still remained as lively as when she was young, sending him on wild chases around the castle grounds, hiding just for the satisfaction of watching her father trying to find her, dignity forgotten as he ran around familiar halls.

 

Chrom always found her, in the end, and even though her younger self protested and tried to wriggle free, she secretly loved being carried back on his shoulders, seeing their world as he saw it, as she would one day see it. Everybody they passed would smile and give a gracious little bow and even as a small child she could see the respect, admiration, and love they had for the Exalt.

 

Later, when she was a few years past the age when it was acceptable for her to be skipping her lessons for such childish impulses, she would still occasionally scamper off, this time hot on the heels of her far more mischievous brother. Though, she often thought, Morgan missed the point of the game. His hiding places were always too good. Even when it seemed to Lucina like they weren’t nearly well hidden enough, Morgan always seemed to know exactly which storeroom Father wouldn’t check or which dusty corner of the great hall he would overlook. After a while, Lucina would grow bored of crouched in a cramped space for an indefinite period of time and return to her lessons while Morgan would run off to Naga knows where. (What she did know is if they were actually needed for something, her mother could track down Morgan with uncanny accuracy)

 

Mother. Lucina did her best to look over at her without the appearance of staring. Robin was currently chewing her lip absentmindedly as she sorted through the stack of papers in front of her. Lucina wished she knew what her mother was thinking, but she would need Morgan for that and he was still too young to be attending these meetings. She had only been attending them for the better part of four weeks, after all, her father’s birthday gift to her and perhaps the best present she can ever remember receiving (except perhaps the illustrated folio of old Yliessen fables Mother had given to her a year ago). They had been boring so far; unlike Morgan (who had been hugely disappointed when, after begging for details of her first council meeting, had been let down when she described four hours of crop and trade reports), Lucina understood that boring was important and boring was good.

Boring was why her mother’s presence here was worrying.

 

Lucina tried to think of what might have called for her presence- the growing conflict with Valm was the most obvious answer, but last she had heard the talks had been going well and a cautious peace was emerging. Certainly the number of messengers arriving on weary horses at all hours of the night in various liveries had slowed- but maybe that was a bad sign. She wracked her memory for clues, wishing she had Morgan’s talent for piecing together seemingly random events into a coherent narrative.

Cordelia’s arrival signaled the start of the meeting. She’s still out of breath when she sits down and Lucina would giggle at the image of normally perfect Cordelia running through the halls if it weren’t for Cordelia’s expression. She was ashen, more tired looking than Lucina had ever seen her and the worry on her face matched that on Robin’s. Looking from mother to father Lucina could now see the distraction, the worry hidden beneath his smile and sat up a little straighter. She could feel this meeting was going to be important and she wanted to prove she was worthy of the trust her father was placing in her.

 

Chrom cleared his throat and stood up, the Exalt’s mark standing out clearly on his bare shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have called everybody here away from their duties-” he said.  Looking around, Lucina realized this was the most full she had ever seen this room.  She knew everybody here, knew they were all trusted advisors, but had never seen them all in the same room.  She shivered, even as she felt unwanted excitement course through her, forcing herself to sit still and watch neutrally as Cordelia stood.  The torchlight caught the scar running down her face, making her look grim and severe,

“Last week” Cordelia began, voice shaky but carrying clearly across the room, “patrols on our borders began to report encounters with strange creatures.  We have termed these creatures ‘Risen’”

 

\---

 

Lucina looked down the length of the table.  There were still maps and scrolls scattered everywhere, mostly untouched by the fire that had destroyed most of the castle’s northern wing.  Flakes of ash had settled, alongside the dust, in a thick layer over the table.  Her eyes watered and she fought the urge to sneeze--or cry.  Swallowing, she tried to regain her composure, to figure out something to say, but no words came to her.  Dammit.  Her father would’ve known what to say to the ragtag group still clustered at the doorway, as if scared to enter the room, as if it were sacred.  She squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath and willing words to come out.  In the end, it’s Morgan’s hand on her shoulder that gives her the confidence.

“for me, this is where it all started” she said, avoiding Severa’s eyes and ending up starting at a point just about Nah’s head as she spoke.  “this was my father’s war room and it will be ours.  My mother taught me that every enemy has a weakness and we will find it.  This, I swear to you, as your Exalt”  Morgan clapped his hands together, possessing an energy that seemed impossible to Lucina, and began assigning tasks.  She watched, numb, as the ruins slowly turned into a room, a small seed of hope blooming in her chest.

 

\---

 

The Falchion was still an unfamiliar weight by her side.  It reminded her of everything she had lost and everything she still could lose.  It hit against the back of her knee as the walked through the markets, far too quiet for the mid-afternoon, everyone clearly shaken up by the last series of Risen attacks.  Still, people waved and smiled as she walked past.  She saw the hope in their eyes and forced herself to slow down, to talk, to reassure.  She could sense a renewed energy in those she passed, but she also saw the pity in their faces, heard their whispers.  Emmeryn was younger than me, and she brought peace and prosperity, she tried to remind herself.  And look what happened a traitorous part of her mind reminded her.  Killed by the very country she made peace with while Ylisse stood by, unable to do anything about it.  Her hand tightened on Falchion’s hilt before she even realized what she was doing and she forced herself to relax, to let her hands dangle awkwardly my her sides.

“I can hear you thinking” Morgan remarked and she jumped, hand flying back to Falchion.  She shook her head, not wanting to trouble him, but he just perched himself on top of a short stone wall and stared at her expectantly.  She sighed, knowing there was no avoiding this if he was determined.

“I was thinking about Emmeryn”.  Morgan looked surprised and she didn’t blame him.  Father had only talked about his sister in the broadest of terms and their mother had refused to speak of her at all-for both, presumably, the hurt was still too near. In the end, they had heard the most from their history teachers and from Lissa, who was only too happy to tell stories of her sister’s grace and generosity. “After she was killed, we sought to avoid war--we just let her die and for what? We’re helpless! At least Valm is arming themselves, preparing for war.”  She refused to look at him, but she could still tell he was giving her his best ‘you may be older but you’re a dummy’ face.  “Maybe grandfather had the right idea…” and she can’t resist looking at him and the face is so familiar she’s flooded by memories of a childhood that seems so long ago and so close at the same time and she’s crying, but Morgan is there, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her fiercely enough that she can feel him crying into her tunic, tiny dry sobs, as if he’s cried too much already for a lifetime.  And she understands it, understands what Emmeryn dreamed of, just like her father had, and she knows it’s worth going to the ends of the earth to preserve that.  She thinks of her friends, each so different, so special in their own way and of their determination, their will unbroken even as their world crumbles around them.  “We’re going to do this” she announces, “without losing anybody”.  Morgan pulls away from her, wiping his eyes on his sleeves and smiles and nods at her and, for a brief second, she believes in what she’s saying.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't played the DLCs yet, so I apologize for the bits that don't fit canon (thinking especially of Future Past). I messed around with some parts of the main games canon as well as it suited my needs, but the game doesn't seem to be horribly concerned about continuity anyways


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